


Hope and Challenge

by uptillthree



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: A Talk, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Friendship/Love, Gen, My First AO3 Post, One Shot, POV Sirius Black, angst everything tbh, can be read as platonic, i love these losers so much help me, idk how ao3 works at all woohoo, missing moment, sirius swears a lot, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 08:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6746644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uptillthree/pseuds/uptillthree
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>" 'Remus,' he began.</p>
<p>Remus looked up and set down his tea quickly, looking rather like a deer caught in headlights. Strange. He hadn’t really witnessed Jumpy Remus since sometime during the first few months of their first year, when the poor kid was too busy trying to protect his furry little secret to actually socialize. </p>
<p>'Yes, Sirius?' "</p>
<p>Sirius and Remus talk – really talk – for the first time since Azkaban. It’s not quite as easy as Sirius wanted it to be, but somehow it all works out. It kind of always does, with him and Moony.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hope and Challenge

**Author's Note:**

> set between the end of poa and the start of gof.
> 
> i apologize in advance

It was difficult.

Or it was just—much harder than he’d imagined, than he’d expected. Talking with Remus was usually—well. Interesting. Easy, comfortable. It had always been. Never _difficult_.

He imagined spending twelve years in a soul-draining prison while Remus suffered poverty and discrimination on his own might change a few things up, though.

Fuck.

Sirius stole a glance at him. Remus was sipping at his tea again. Like Sirius would be fooled by _that_. Remus had sipped tea approximately twenty times in the past fifteen minutes without ever draining his cup. Not that Sirius was counting, but presumably it was so he wouldn’t have to actually talk to him.

Well. Sirius wasn’t going to stand for _that_. Remus might have random bouts of cowardice despite his overall Gryffindor nature, but not Sirius.

“Remus,” he began.

Remus looked up and set down his tea quickly, looking rather like a deer caught by headlights. Strange. He hadn’t really witnessed Jumpy Remus since sometime during the first few months of their first year, when the poor kid was too busy trying to protect his furry little secret to actually socialize.

“Yes, Sirius?”

O—kay. Apparently not that jumpy, if his voice was that calm and even. Sirius scrabbled for something to say— _it’s not my fault I’ve talked with like three people since Azkaban, damn._ “Ah, er—nice weather today, huh?”

Holy hell. He, Sirius Orion Black, had not actually talked about the _fucking weather_. He abruptly shut his mouth again, because Remus was looking at him rather bemusedly. “Nice wea—actually, Sirius, it looks like it’s about to rain.” He looked like he was trying not to _laugh_. At _him_. Obviously Sirius had reached a new low. _God, Sirius, step up your game._

“Oh. Rhetorical question, anyway. And the weather’s nice enough in my head, you know.”

Which would have probably sounded weird to anyone else, but Remus let out a startled laugh. “Is it?”

“Mm. Sun’s actually shining for once.” Sirius smiled. “Thanks for letting me stay awhile, Moony."

To his surprise, Remus actually snorted. “What, it’s not like I would ever turn you away. That wasn’t really an option. Padfoot. Stay as much as you need to.”

_Fuck_ , but Remus calling him Padfoot still made his heart sorta—backflip. And… ache. Sirius chalked it up to the fact that no one had actually called him that in… twelve long years. Because he’d been in Azkaban. Sirius swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat. “Still. Thanks. And I can’t be here long—they might search your house again. Not to mention, I’m a man on the run anyway…” Rambling. He was rambling. “And—I missed you.”

_And I miss James and Lily,_ hung unsaid in the air between them. Remus drew what looked to Sirius like a truly agonizing breath. “I missed you as well, Sirius.”

“Mm.” He meant to say more, honestly, but his throat was closing up and he couldn’t really—

“And I’m sorry.”

Sirius nearly spat out his next breath. “What?”

“I’m so sorry, Sirius.” Remus actually sounded like he was choking up, fingers clenching white around his cup. “I can’t believe I let them take you to Azkaban like that, and—I didn’t even defend you, I didn’t _think_ —you were there for _twelve years_ —”

“What the fuck, Remus.”

“I—w-what?”

“That wasn’t your fault, none of that was—” And now _he_ was choking up, and _fuck it,_ he had never been good with words. Sirius swallowed. “ _I_ thought you were a _spy_ , Remus, _I’m_ the one who should be sorry—it was my fault, _I’m sorry_ —”

“No, that’s not—I refuse to let you blame yourself, if I hadn’t been such a coward I could’ve just convinced them—”

“Shut up, I just—I can’t believe I ever thought you were a spy, I’m sor—”

“Sirius, I’m so sorry—”

They both shut up in the same moment, staring at each other. Then Sirius burst into laughter. Remus was chuckling too. _Stupid. God, we’re both so stupid_. “I, ah—”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

Remus smiled, shaky but bright. “Apology accepted.”

Sirius nodded quickly, grinning back. Privately, he thought his heart might burst. “Yeah… yeah. All’s forgiven.”

“All’s forgiven.”

They laughed again, about nothing in particular. After that the silence seemed much more comfortable, and Sirius breathed in deeply.

He was so, so glad to be out of Azkaban. Had he mentioned that yet? He needed to mention it more.

But probably not right now, not in front of Remus. Because if he knew him at all, Remus would probably apologize again and they’d be right back where they started. Idiot. Sirius coughed. “How—how have you been doing? All these years?”

_How’d you do it_ , was what Sirius meant. _I get that you’re amazing, but how did you survive it all alone._

“I—well—“ Remus seemed taken aback and—kind of upset, and Sirius regretted asking immediately. What right did he have to know? 

_What happened to you. What did I leave you to suffer through when I left you alone._

Remus breathed deeply—he did that a lot when he was nervous, Sirius remembered. “Let's not—” Remus frowned. Cut himself off again.

God, but Sirius had never seen his old friend so _inarticulate_. He took so long to answer that Sirius almost thought he wouldn't at all; the minutes just ticked by and the tension thickened around them and Sirius couldn't bring himself to say “Nevermind, you don't have to answer that, please let's talk about brighter things.”

"It wasn't like I had much of a choice," Remus said finally, his voice lower than usual. "It was—rather difficult. At first." 

And that, Sirius understood, meant that it had hurt Remus more than he could ever know, because Remus Lupin rarely admitted to difficulty in the first place.

Remus was staring into his tea.  “But I guess I—at some point I realized I couldn't keep… grieving… forever. I couldn't afford to. Especially not with my… condition.” He glanced up, but the faraway look in his eyes suggested he was hardly seeing Sirius at all. 

“It wasn't as bad as I thought it was, in retrospect. I'd work the odd job here and there for as long as I could without anyone realizing what I was—mostly Muggle jobs… I’d use the old cellar for full moons… I managed.” At this, Remus looked straight at Sirius, his gaze suddenly razor-sharp. “I always somehow thought—I couldn’t afford to give up, that wasn’t an option, not after—not after Dumbledore even let me _attend_ Hogwarts, or after all you and James and Lily had done.”

“ _Remus_ —”

“And,” said Remus, “after all I had done for myself.”

Sirius shut up.

“It wasn't anything noble, Sirius,” said Remus quickly. “It wasn't anything poetic. It was just—I'd come that far. It took me a while to realize, but giving up right then wasn't an option anymore.” Remus frowned. “I think you taught me that.”

Had he? He was sort of thinking it was the other way around. A smile tugged at Sirius' lips. Sometimes, he thought, Remus underestimated himself so much that when the full wonder of who he was shone through, it took even Sirius by surprise. “It's _kinda_ poetic. You have to admit.”

“Maybe a little.” An embarrassed look came upon Remus' face, but he hadn’t stopped smiling. “What… what about you, though? In… Azkaban, I mean.” He sounded like he was still walking on eggshells around Sirius. Which was just slightly annoying.

He shrugged. Looked down. Couldn’t quite meet Remus’ eyes. “Like I said. I didn’t think about—anything. Just Peter. How I was innocent. I survived. All that matters.”

He bit down harshly on the inside of his cheek, hard enough to hurt but not enough to draw blood. He didn't speak about the harder things, the worse parts, about how in the first few years when he still had hope, whenever no dementors were near his cell he would think of James and Lily when they were alive, and his godson who was wonderful, and Remus most of all. And they were far more than happy memories, because as long as he remembered them—he had something he actually _wanted_ to fight for, more than just himself and his innocence and all Peter had done.   
  
"Sirius?" Remus' voice, quiet but strong. Digging him back up from his own thoughts as always. 

“I miss James.” Out of the corner of his eye, Remus stiffened, and Sirius shot him a glare. “What? Someone had to say it! It was just hanging there—”

“No, it wasn’t—”

“Was too! And we were both thinking it!”

“I—” Remus covered his face with his hands. “It’s been twelve years, Sirius.”

Sirius started. Twelve years—that seemed unbelievable. Azkaban had felt more like an eternity, and yet—had he really been gone from the Wizarding World for twelve years? He had. Apparently, he had. Twelve years. Sirius hammered the fact into his head as if it would become easier to accept.

“Remember when—” Remus’ voice was shaking, hesitant, just this slightest bit. “When James made that list of pranks to do back in first year? Like a bucket list of pranks—it was so ridiculous, I don’t even remember where it is now—”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sirius said, and once again he found he was smiling without noticing. “And, and—” It was a surprise, and also a huge, huge relief, how the memories came back so fast, so easy after all this time, after Azkaban, not lost after all— “Remember when we were figuring out how to be Animagi, and he got stuck with antlers for a week and had to wear glamors—”

“I remember him being more scared Lily might see them by accident—”

“ _God_ , remember James and Lily in first year, they bickered _so_ much, it was hilarious to everyone _but_ them—”

“James didn’t figure out he had a crush on her till, what, fourth year? I swear—”

“Lily didn’t figure it out till at least sixth!”

They both burst into sniggers. _Childish!_ But Sirius didn’t stop, and they kept on that way for some time, a little laughing, a little crying. His chest ached. Sirius decided to let it.

“Ye—Yes,” said Remus breathlessly, wiping his eyes, and Sirius got the impression that he’d missed them for twelve years and had had no one to tell, no one to admit it to, not even himself. “I—I do miss them. Lily and James. And Harry.”

Sirius sat up. “Harry.”

“Yes, Harry…?”

“He stays at his relatives during the summer, right?”

A nod. “Mm. Why?”

Sirius slumped back in his chair. He bit his tongue on the words bubbling up in his throat, indignant—that Harry should be staying with _him_ , with his _godfather_ , or at least with Remus, _people James and Lily actually trusted_ —and sighed.

“Nah, nothing. I was just thinking I should probably write Harry a letter.”

“I—yes. You should. He’s likely waiting for one. I don’t have an owl, however…”

“Mm. I’ll figure it out.” He was starting to get lost in his thoughts again, and desperately redirected his thoughts to future plans to distract himself.

Come morning he’d have to leave Remus’ flat, Sirius thought; he was putting them both at enough risk already by staying the night. He hadn’t planned on doing so in the first place: he was simply—passing by, honestly, flying on Buckbeak, and Dumbledore had told him beforehand that Remus lived around here. It was totally coincidence. Not part of the plan at all.

Sirius sighed. He’d head south, find a place to stay. And he would write letters to Harry to keep himself interested. He missed the kid already, and longed for the chance to know him better. _Someday._ “We'll make it through this one.” He sounded resolute, which was strange, because he wasn't feeling any of the usual confidence at all. “Right?”

Remus looked worried. “What?”

“The war. The second war. It's coming, right? Will we make it through, Moony?”

“I—” Remus stumbled on his own words again, hands clenching into fists, and when Sirius looked up to meet his eyes he found the same doubt, the same fear, the same _grief_ of twelve long years reflected in them—and all he felt was _relief_ , because he wasn't sure anyone had ever really understood him like Remus had. And now he was here. He was here, and they were both alive, and that was enough. 

"'Course we will, Padfoot. Harry as well." Remus drew another breath. Reached out to clasp Sirius' hands, which, he realized, were faintly trembling. Gave him a smile full of hope and challenge.  "I solemnly swear."


End file.
